


Cum and Cummerbunds

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Sex, Smut, cocks, cum, cummerbunds, music references, tuxedoes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 16:08:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mycroft and Greg do the vertical and horizontal tangos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cum and Cummerbunds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MystradeSexyTimes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystradeSexyTimes/gifts).



"This is dreadful," Gregory Lestrade whispered to his lover, tugging at the collar of his stiff shirt. "It's so hot in here."  
"It is not, stop complaining. And straighten your posture, for god's sake!" Mycroft hissed, managing to keep a smile plastered on his face. Greg made a disapproving noise and straightened his back, wincing at the loud crack that sounded.

"Do try to be quiet," Mycroft muttered, raising his flute of champagne slightly and nodding at someone across the room whom Greg assumed to be of noble birth. After several minutes of trying to figure out the man's name, he finally gave up and asked Mycroft.

"His name is Angelo de Luca, and he is rather important."

"Oh. Um...why is he important?"

"He is to Italy what I am to England."

"Oh."

Mycroft rolled his eyes at his lover's ignorance, then reminded himself that Gregory wasn't as brilliant as he, along with the fact that the man did not care to speak of government matters. They bored him, oddly enough. Mycroft attributed that to the fact that his lover had been brought up in a home very different from his.

"Sorry," the DI murmured, slightly embarrassed, "I just don't know anybody. Why did you drag me here?"

"Because you are arm candy," Mycroft deadpanned, sipping at his champagne, "No, I would have been horrifically bored otherwise. And one cannot dance on their own."

"Wait...Mycroft, no fucking way," the older man hissed, "I am not dancing."

"Why not? Did you really think I got us all those lessons for nothing?"

"No, but-"

"No buts. You are a magnificent dancer."

"I can't dance, Myc."

" _Mycroft_. And yes you can."

" _Myc_ , and no I can't."

The government official sighed and was about to continue his argument, when a thought struck him. "What if," he leaned down so his lips were pressed against the DI's ear, "If you dance, I will indulge you."

Greg shivered at the feeling of Mycroft's soft, pink lips against his ear. "Indulge me?" he croaked.

Mycroft ran his fingers down the red silk tie his lover was wearing before bringing them back up to cup the DI's chin. "Yes," he breathed against the other man's lips, "I will indulge you. Carnally."

Greg licked his lips, his mind a complete blank. "You...what...how?"

Mycroft smiled seductively and pressed a soft kiss to the shell of Greg's ear. "Dance with me," he murmured, "And I will make sure that your tie ends up around my wrists by night's end."

The DI shuddered, his mouth hanging slightly open, then nodded, licking his lips (which suddenly felt horribly dry). "I...alright," he replied eventually, "Alright, I will."

"Lovely," the government official smiled, "Come, you recall how to tango?"

"Barely," Greg muttered as Mycroft led him out into the middle of the ballroom where about twelve other couples were finishing their respective dances.

"You sure about this, Myc?" he whispered, "People are staring."

"Of course they're staring," Mycroft said softly as the music began to play, "I've never danced in front of them before."

"But-"

"Shh," Mycroft whispered, pressing a finger to the DI's lips and taking his hand, "Allow the music to take you away. And let me lead." he added.

Greg nodded, suddenly very aware of every other person in the room looking at them, whispering; they'd never seen Mycroft dance, and on top of that, the ginger was practically fucking the DI with his eyes. If Mycroft had pulled down his trousers and bent him over a table his lust would have been less obvious, but the DI was completely oblivious to this fact, focusing instead on the heat in his cheeks caused by slight embarrassment.

"Mycroft, they're all-"

"Shh," Mycroft whispered, "Don't think. Dance."

The silver-haired man swallowed again and stepped closer, allowing the government official to place a hand on his lower back. "You're sure this is-"

"Shh." the ginger repeated, "Do not think. Remember what we practiced."

"Okay," the DI replied, allowing Mycroft to lead him into the simple step they had practiced, their bodies moving slowly in tandem with the gentle sound of the strings. The music swelled, and Mycroft suddenly turned and dipped the DI, the same letting out a surprised grunt. "Do shut up," Mycroft whispered, annoyance and affection (affectionate annoyance. Something Greg had come to know all too well) in his eyes. He pulled the DI back up into his former position, feeling his lover relaxing as the pace of the music picked up, bathing them both in a sea of sharp staccatos and sixteenth notes. 

The other dancers had moved away from the couple by this time, mesmerized by the way they moved in tandem, their bodies becoming one. The sound of several cellos echoed off the walls of the ballroom, and Mycroft led the DI in circles around the floor, their legs moving together as if part of one body. As they moved, the DI gained confidence, daring to twist around in Mycroft's arms, their hands still clasped together. Mycroft smiled and repeated the action, allowing his lover to lead.

Greg smirked at his lover as they moved, the heels of Mycroft's expensive shoes clicking on the smooth floor, gliding across as effortlessly as an ice skater moves in the rink. He stared into Mycroft's grey eyes, his blatant arousal turning them ashes black. He swung the ginger around, managing to lift his feet an inch from the ground, twisting in a way that he knew was going to hurt like hell later, but at this moment he simply didn't care. Everything was their legs and the music and _Mycroft_ , and nothing else mattered. He could feel the other guests' eyes on them, and set his jaw. _"Let them look,_ he thought. _"Let them look at us."_

Mycroft, picking up on Greg's newfound confidence and energy, spun around in his arms as the violins swelled, the wave of music crashing over them again and again as they spun, Mycroft's legs wrapping around Greg's in perfect sync with what the DI was doing. They told a story with their dancing; a story filled with lust, passion, and sinful seduction.

All too quickly, the final note fell, and the two were forced to cease in their dancing, completely oblivious of everything around them until the other guests began clapping. Greg's face immediately turned bright red, and Mycroft smirked at him. "They loved us," he murmured into the DI's ear, "Now, perhaps we should do the same."

"Now?! Here?!"

"Empty closet. Twelve doors away."

Greg swallowed and nodded, smiling weakly at the crowd of people, hoping they couldn't see his erection through his expensive trousers, then took Mycroft's hand and tugged him towards the corridor.

Before they could even get the door open, Mycroft had begun attacking Greg's mouth with his own, biting and sucking at his lip with a passion that not many people saw. Greg managed to get the door open, and they stumbled inside, slamming the door behind them.

"Fuck, Gregory," Mycroft swore as the DI shoved his hand down his trousers, "I... _fuck_!" Mycroft was not one to swear often, but when he did, you'd better you believe that you had him at his most raw, primal state.

Greg smiled madly at the noises he was getting out of his usually stoic lover. "Yeah, you like that?" he grunted, pushing Mycroft up against a wall and kissing him roughly. Mycroft may have been the dominant one on the dance floor, but in the bedroom, Greg knew just how to do the horizontal tango. "C'mon, let daddy hear you, love."

Mycroft groaned loudly and thrust up against Greg's hand, his cock already hard and slick with sweat and precome. "Oh, god...."

Greg reached down and unzipped Mycroft's trousers, pushing them and his pants down just enough to set his aching cock free. "On your knees," he commanded, undoing his own zip (damn the cummerbund Mycroft had forced him to wear) and roughly shoving his trousers down. "Open your mouth," he breathed, "Let me see that tongue."

Mycroft immediately dropped to his knees and tipped his head back, panting heavily. He let his mouth fall open, his lips already moist with saliva. "Please," he murmured, leaning forward, "Let me-"

"Not until I say," the DI said gruffly, reaching out to run his fingers through Mycroft's curls, mussing them. "You like it when I do this, don't you?" he murmured, pressing the head of his cock against Mycroft's wanting lips, "You like it when I make you my bitch."

"Yes," Mycroft panted, "Please..."

"Suck it," the DI commanded, shoving the tip of his cock between Mycroft's wet lips, "Take it all."

Mycroft swallowed eagerly, taking his lover's cock all the way in, his nose to the DI's silver pubic hair. The older man groaned at the contact, tugging lightly on Mycroft's ginger waves. "Oh, yeah," he groaned, "Suck it. Let me see what that little whore mouth can do."

The government official nodded, pulling back and running his tongue along the head of the erect cock in front of him, the salty tang washing over his taste buds. "Hm," he murmured, "Tastes good..."

"God, _Mycroft_ ," the DI moaned, "Take the whole damn thing."

Mycroft looked up at his lover for a moment before nodding and wrapping his lips around the head of Greg's cock. He sucked eagerly on just the head, running the tip of his tongue over the slit. The ginger ran his finger over the big vein on the side of the older man's erection, eliciting a shudder and a moan from the DI. 

"Fuck, Mycroft..."

"Yes," the ginger breathed, reaching back to fondle his lover's balls, "Please do."

"Cheeky," the DI muttered, "Let's shut up that filthy mouth of yours."

Mycroft hummed in surprise and satisfaction as the cock he had learned to enjoy so much was shoved down his throat once more. He let out another surprised squeak as Greg thrust into his mouth, the head of his cock striking his tonsils. A muffled 'Gregory!' escaped his lips, but that was all.

The DI threw his head back and thrust hard into Mycroft's hot, eager mouth, feeling the familiar coil of heat building in the pit of his stomach; it wouldn't be long now. The wet heat around his erection tightened, and he realized with a growing delight that Mycroft was going to let him come in his mouth. Usually the government official refused to do such things, but then again, this was an unusual circumstance.

"Going to...fuck...Mycroft, I'm gonna..."

Mycroft pulled back just enough so he wouldn't choke, allowing the DI to thrust wildly into his mouth, shooting thick, hot wads of semen down his waiting throat. 

With a final sigh of 'Mycroft', the DI collapsed against the wall, sinking down so he was sitting on the floor. 

"Oi, what about me?" Mycroft whined, licking the remainder of the cum from his lips. It didn't taste too bad, actually. 

"Hm? Oh," Greg reached out and ran his hand over Mycroft's straining cock before leaning down to take it in his mouth. He wasn't as skilled at this as Mycroft was, but he figured the government official didn't need that much stimulation to get off, judging by his current moaning, squealing state. 

"Come on, Mycroft," he moaned around the cock in his mouth, "Come for me."

He didn't have to tell Mycroft twice. The ginger came with a loud cry of Greg's name, spraying thick, hot ropes of cum across his lips and face. Greg sat absolutely still, relishing in the feeling of Mycroft's cum spraying into his mouth. Mycroft collapsed back onto his arse, his trousers still around his knees.

"Gregory," he breathed, "That was..."

"Holy shit," the DI giggled, "That was...fuck, that was incredible."

"You're rather...rather dashing in a suit, I must say. Oh good god..."

"You're not half-bad yourself," Greg chuckled, "Should we get back...Jesus, we look a mess."

"We do," Mycroft laughed, looking down at his ruined shirt. "Well, I can cover it up with my jacket. You?"

"I think my pants are ruined, and I think I've your cum on my suit, but other than that, nothing big."

Mycroft nodded and silently stood up, offering the DI his hand. Greg took it, pleased with the fact that Mycroft had offered it to him; when their relationship first began, he'd never pegged Mycroft to be so helpful.

"How are we going to get this off my collar?" the older man groaned, pointing at his suit collar. 

"Hm." Mycroft mused, "We could always just...ignore it. Pretend you spilled something on it."

"That is the most stupid thing I have ever heard," the DI grumbled, tugging up his trousers and tucking his shirt back in, foregoing the stupid cummerbund (who needed it, anyway). 

"You forget that the other guests are not nearly as intelligent as you and I." Mycroft replied, fixing his own clothes.

"They're not _that_ stupid, Myc," Greg chuckled, "They'll know I've got your spunk on my collar."

"I honestly do not care, Gregory. The party should be ending soon, anyway."

"So that means we have more time to kill?"

"It does." Mycroft grinned mischievously, wrapping his arms around the DI's waist, "What did you have in mind as a 'time suck', if you will?"

"Well, there would be sucking involved. Are you interested?" Greg smirked, slowly turning them so Mycroft's back was up against the door. The ginger sucked in a breath, feeling Greg's hardening cock twitch against his own.

"Very."


End file.
